A Kiss After Frying
by happyharper13
Summary: Sometimes, their position twitches.  Post-episode for 11x12, A Kiss Before Dying.  Nick/Greg.


Nick wasn't sure how to feel. First of all, he was angry. That part of him wanted to punch someone. Preferably the no-good, dirty, rotten, and, worst yet, _peachily delicious smelling_ hussy that had so sinfully ensnared his fellow CSI.

Since there was probably some rule somewhere against swiping conning murderesses, no matter how sly or ill-intentioned, he was left with the next palpable victim.

Papers flew everywhere, no doubt running in fear of impending confrontation of the nature that seldom behooves fibrous sheets.

Greg stared down apologetically at the fallen files - his fallen files - that had, at last, reached their not-quite-resting places.

And then Greg widened his eyes and he raised his head and he stared.

"Sorry," Nick said quietly.

Greg looked up, taking in the scattered files on the floor as well. He seemed solidly placed between a shrug and a _well, Fuck you. _

"When I say "I told ya so', I really do mean that I hate to say I told someone so. I hate to say I told you so. I hate that... " Nick glanced down and rubbed his neck with hints of scatter-brainedness. "yeah, well, you get the picture."

Greg nodded before sitting down. It was the middle of the Lab hallway. Nick didn't care.

Greg carefully began to sort through the files before branching them out across the floor further.

"Whaddare you doing, Greggo?" Nick caught the condescending tone a step and a hallway tile too late.

Greg looked up sharply. After all, they'd been in this position before, just without an arrested no-good, dirty, rotten, and, worst yet, _peachily delicious smelling_ hussy smeared somewhere across the middle of the status of their not-relationship. Still, somehow, they _were_ in the same position. Neither could say that there wasn't something they liked about that position. Why else stay static for so long?

What was their position? It twitched and trembled - _heck! Nick thought, it certainly had tonight! - _but, ultimately, it was still there. Their eyes still met at those _just right _glances. And they still somehow ended up sitting proper on the floor of the hallway outside their shared office, with Greg's files strewn across, even as Greg tried to right them, matching corners to the floor tiles. Nick, on the other hand, just kept pushing them in, into arm's easy reach, even if it meant sacrificing nice, neat lines and clear piles.

"Nothing missing," Greg mumbled. A slight bend in Greg's second finger provided enough to warn Nick of the other man's impending departure. _It was always the_ _little things he remembered about Greg. But _he moved too slow, and caught the slighter man's ankle as Greg raised himself to a steady, albeit tired upright position.

_Position._ Theirs felt so precarious. But Nick saw the hand dropped to his level. Greg raised his eyes, and Nick could still make out the hidden hope.

Nick smiled and accepted the offer.

"Sorry for toppling your papers."

"Sorry for toppling the case."

Both men chuckled.

Greg breathed deeply, almost testing the air itself for resistance - perhaps even support. "I get the feeling that my adventure in girl dating didn't go too well."

Nick nodded, still laughing lightly.

"Why do we do this?" Greg asked.

"This...?"

"Everything. Why do we put ourselves in this position."

"Because sometimes you drive me insane."

"You know, sometimes you drive me insane too," Greg said defensively.

"But we just keep coming back for more."

"No more break-ups. I'm tired of the Vegas dating scene."

Nick nodded absentmindedly before wrapping a hand around his now on-again boyfriend's shoulder. He looked more closely at the tired lines crisscrossing Greg's eyes and remembered the emotional twitch in their position. _Reassurance._ "You know, in the very least, I won't use you for your fabulous CSI connections." He looked up to meet Greg's amused, even still a bit tired and bitter, smile. "And I don't need no stinkin' bus. I'll follow you around forever, no matter how crazy I drive you."

"Or how crazy I drive _you_," Greg generously added.

"Or how crazy you drive me," Nick gently admitted. "Although you'd drive me a little less crazy without so much of the Raymond Chandler-ing around. Bullets and femme fatales are a bad combination. Speaking from personal experience."

"Well then, I guess we can't break up again."

"Guess not."

Then Nick gave his on-again boyfriend what he hoped was Greg's best kiss of the last month.


End file.
